


Imagine #5

by Caged_Heat_40, SoulSurvivor_36



Series: Imagine... [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Doggy Style, F/M, Harvelle's Roadhouse, Moose ramming, Orgasm, Rough Sex, Sex against the wall, Smut, Vaginal Sex, porn with barely any premise, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 02:50:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14559225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caged_Heat_40/pseuds/Caged_Heat_40, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulSurvivor_36/pseuds/SoulSurvivor_36
Summary: Imagine you and Sam fooling around in Ellen’s bar after closing and something spills on your shirt. Sam gallantly offers you his plaid shirt.





	Imagine #5

**Author's Note:**

> When the electricity goes out, there is nothing better to do than to sit and write porn. And, what's better than porn? Winchester porn! We hope you enjoy this impromptu story that we managed in our usual style of a quick, one day session!  
> Should you find yourself enjoying this latest Imagine, please encourage horny talent by leaving an enthusiastic kudos (like regular kudos... only tapped with zeal). We hope you enjoy the newest member of the Winchester porn family!

You giggle for what feels like the hundredth time in the past hour and you try to suppress the childish noise, embarrassed that you suddenly sound like a nine-year-old little girl.  Blame the copious amounts of alcohol, or the adrenaline rush from your near miss with the werewolf, or the fucking dimples in Sam Winchester’s grin-stretched face, but you just can’t help yourself. You give in to the giggles, the alcohol making it easier to accept the sounds coming from you, and you narrow your eyes at Sam. You try to look at him seriously, but you find it impossible. Your words come out in broken sentences as they filter past the bubbly joy that keeps leaking from inside of you.

"Ok, ok.” You stammer, holding your hands out in front of you, your eyes holding his gaze as you try to be serious but can’t seem to stop laughing. “I'm telling you though, there is no way you can down that whole thing in under a half a minute. You gotta breathe in there somewhere!"

Your grin gets wider at the thought of Sam guzzling a pitcher of beer. He's a big man, but there is no way he can manage that.

"Betcha I can! You forget who my brother is. He taught me all I need to know about how to properly down a pitcher of beer."

He grins at you, his dimples becoming more defined and his perfectly white teeth gleam back at you. He looks down at the floor for just a moment, allowing his hair to fall into his face before looking back up at you, and with a simple move of his head, he manages to move his hair back and he's locked his beautiful hazel eyes onto yours. You giggle again, looking away for a moment, a blush warming your cheeks, and you hold out your hand towards him.  "Ok, it's a bet!"

Sam shakes your hand, holding on for a few seconds longer than he should have, then he grabs the pitcher that Ellen had just filled up for the third time and wraps both of his enormous hands around each side.

“Wait!” you yell, a bit too enthusiastically, “What are we betting?”

Sam lowers the pitcher for a moment and ponders what the bet should be when his eyes light up.  “How about if I win, you’ll let me teach you that defense move I’ve been working on?” He raises his eyebrows and waited for your nod of approval.

“And, if you lose--” you start, your face drawing up into a sinister smile, “then you have to agree to any request of mine. Doesn’t matter what it is.” You thrust your hand back toward him and wait for him to shake on it.

“Anything? Really?” he asks, looking a little uncertain.

“Yup!” Your smile gets wider and you push your hand on him a bit more.

He finally agrees a little reluctantly and takes your hand again. You both sit there staring at each other, the room and people around you fade off into blurs and your sole focus is on the man sitting across from you at the small table near the bar.  Are you zoning out or are you drowning in Sam Winchester’s suddenly serious and intense gaze?  You certainly can’t tell.  You break the slightly unsettling eye contact and look around… when did the place empty around you?  Ellen was the only other person left and she was busy cleaning glasses and mugs and pitchers and putting them away for the night.  The blonde owner of the Roadhouse puts down the last glass on the shelf and hangs the rag on a drawer handle before looking their way on her way to the door at the back of the room.

"Hey, Sam,” she calls out in her no-nonsense tone, “When you two get done acting like kids, make sure the lights are out and the doors are locked would ya? I'm headed out. I'll see you later!"

“Sure thing, Ellen!” Sam calls out, a slight slur to his speech.

Ellen starts to make her way out when her head pokes back in through the door. "You two behave yourselves, huh?" She smiles and disappears again, not waiting for an answer.

You suddenly remember the bet and the stakes and looking forward to making Sam your slave you look back at him.  “Ready? Go!" you shout as he brings the pitcher up to his mouth and starts to chug.

After a few glugs you realize that you’re in very real danger of losing and you reach forward and tickle his ribs. Your laughter bounces around the bar, definitely giddier than you should be from just a few beers and you don't notice that the pitcher has left Sam's mouth and he is doing everything in his power to keep the beer in his mouth.  Annoyed that he doesn’t seem to be reacting to your distraction tactics, you reach under the table and lay your hand on his leg, squeezing his kneecap, hoping to trigger his knee jerk movement enough to make him fail.  You look up at his face and you register his startled wide eyes before he jerks, his entire body startling like you had zapped him with a 120-volt cable.  You start to giggle again, your head feeling like it’s a helium filled balloon, when Sam makes a noise in his throat. You startle out of your giggles just in time to register him reaching for the pitcher slipping out of his hands.  Like a slow-motion scene in a movie, you watch as the still half full pitcher of cold beer tips towards you, the white foam-topped amber liquid spilling over the edge and headed straight for you.

You attempt to leap from the chair you had been occupying for the last few hours and dodge the tidal wave of beer that now has you in its sights, but you're not fast enough. Your entire body tenses as the icy cold streams of liquid splash across the front of you and you freeze in place. Cold and wet soaks through your shirt and the crotch of your jeans and cuts through the last of the beer haze and you gasp in cold surprise as you stand frozen to the spot like a piece of modern art, the steady drips of beer slinking down strands of your hair, hitting the worn wooden floor of the bar and making small plopping sounds in the now empty room.

Sam stares wide-eyed at what he's just done. You finally look up at him in disbelief, your gazes locking again a moment before you’re both taken over by another giddy rush and burst out laughing. Sam sets the pitcher down and stands up, walks over and reaches behind the bar to grab a couple of dish towels. He hands you one and begins to pat dry the little beer that had splattered onto him from the back spray of his impression of a sprinkler. You stand there and just glare at him, towel in hand, and wonder how he believes that a little towel like this is going to make the situation any better. He must have sensed you staring at him because he stops what he's doing and looks up at you. His eyes find yours and the smile on his face broadens again.

"What?" he tries to be innocent in his questioning but can't seem to stifle the laugh that is working its way up his throat again.

"You really think this is going to help?" you ask, your eyes boring into him as if you could melt the skin from his face.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other and you toss the useless dish towel back behind the bar where it came from.

"This was all your fault! If you hadn't grabbed my knee like that you wouldn't be standing here drenched in beer!"

“Well, if SOMEONE had learned to hold his beer properly… and I mean that quite literally… I wouldn’t be soaked in cold piss!”

Sam stops his dabbing at his chest with the towel and shakes the hair out of his face as he looks up at you with a frown.  “Wait… you saying you peed yourself?”

“What?” you nearly squeal in annoyance, “No! Sam!”  You gesture vehemently at his beer-soaked mess all over you, pursing your lips angrily and stomping your foot, all traces of your previous giddiness quickly evaporating following your cold shower.

“Oh!” Sam’s grin re-appears on his face, his lips contorting as though he is trying to suppress it, but just can’t. “Well, in that case, here, let me help!” He moves closer to you and starts to pat you down with the towel in his hand, a laugh bubbling up his throat and making its way out of his mouth. You continue to glare at him and push his hand away.

“Nice… laugh it up, jerk wad,” you mumble as you look down at yourself again, feeling miserable in your wet clothes and longing for a hot shower to be rid of the sticky mess.  You pull at your buttoned-up plaid, feeling it vacuum-sucked to your body, and there’s just nothing for it.  You start un-buttoning it, thinking to wring out most of it before walking down the road to the motel where your bag is.

You peel the fabric from your shoulders, your black bra the only thing covering your upper body, but you’re beyond caring about showing Sam some flesh… it’s nothing he hasn’t already seen anyways fixing you up after a hunt.  You shake out your shirt, the fabric making wet whipping sounds, the sleeve actually slapping you on the cheek.  You toss the insulting garment to the ground, annoyed as you look down at yourself wondering what to do about your wet jeans. Your skin is starting to feel tacky and you can't help but have a deepening grimace across your face. You look back up to see Sam staring at your near naked form. His eyes seem to be glued to your chest and you smile a little, unsure as to why he is acting so weird.

"Sam! Hey! See something you like?" He snaps to and meets your gaze, swallowing hard.

"Uh, yeah, no… I mean… Just, uh, you might get cold running around like that. Here..."

Before a protest can leave your lips, he shrugs off his shirt, takes a step towards you and his arms are around you, wrapping your shoulders in warm flannel and sticking your face an inch away from his broad, t-shirt clad chest, a hint of dark hair peeking out from the V-neck. You can't help but notice how his under shirt moves smoothly over the taut muscles and smooth skin underneath and you find yourself wanting to suddenly touch him. A wave of something spicy and sweet like sandalwood hits your nose and you take a dizzy step back, pulling the front of the flannel closed, suddenly shy about your exposed body while your eyes still trace the lines of muscle underneath his shirt.

Your bet pops back into your mind and suddenly you know exactly what you would like the tall, handsome hunter standing before you to do.  You push your arms through the sleeves of the flannel, feeling the hair on your nape standing on end, the room suddenly supercharged and you leave the buttons undone, the panels of the shirt hanging loosely and exposing the gentle curve of each of your breasts and the mostly trim line of your hunter's belly.

You look up and the smile has slipped from his face, replaced by a look that you’ve seen before, though not from Sam, and you find yourself moving toward him, biting at your lip. You stalk towards him, like a wild cat about to pounce and he moves back, startled, until his legs bump into the chair he had been sitting in.  He slowly lowers himself into it, his hands seeming to want to reach for you, but he lays them on his knees instead, a bit of tension in his shoulders. You lean forward toward him, your cheek rubbing slightly against his and you can hear him take in a shaky breath.

“It’s ok, Sam. Relax. It’s not like you’ve never done anything like this before.”

You nip at his ear lobe with your teeth and you can feel his breath on your collar bone. A shiver runs through you and you feel the tug behind your navel.  You pull back from his cheek and lay each of your hands on his legs, feeling his thigh muscles twitch like they expect you to squeeze his knee again, and you quirk your lips into a coquettish smile as you smooth up the hard muscles towards his hips.  You look at him, your eyes running over his fine features and registering his slightly uncertain look, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.  He isn’t pulling away though and you decide to push on, a feeling of heightened expectation coursing through you. The hollow at the base of his throat beacons your slightly fuzzying brain and as your hands reach his torso, you curl your fingers around the top of his hip bones and bend forward as you hold him in place.  You lean into him and graze his neck with bared teeth before closing your lips, barely touching his skin, the smell of soap and aftershave and his shampooed hair invading your nose as you breathe him in.  You close your eyes and smile. Your grip on his hips tightens and you move to straddle his lap, but you're startled when he stops you and you look up into his face. Your eyes meet his, a spark dancing in his clear irises and you relax. His hand softly comes up to your neck, his thumb traces the edge of your jawline before he trails his fingers lightly down to the open flannel, wraps his large hands around the fabric and he pulls you into his lap. You let out a small whimper, turned on by his sudden confidence, a pulse going through you and throbbing in your pussy.

His arm wraps around your waist and pulls you further up his lap, your legs on either side of him while he winds his hand into your hair. Nose-to-nose with him, your heart is racing and your mind is a blur. You run your hands down the front of his chest, hook your fingers under the seam of his shirt and you pull up, yanking it off him in one motion. You pull your arms back and yank off the flannel as his arms come back down, his hot palms warming your cool skin as his fingers unhook your bra, the fabric suddenly gone.  You move forward and crash your mouth against his, unable to resist your urges any longer.

You wrap your arms around his neck, both your hands moving up and tangling in his long, soft hair as you hold him in place.  His body is hard against the softness of your curves and his skin is boiling hot against yours and you feel how massive he is, somehow his body’s size surprising you, regardless of all the time spent with him.  Something about being wrapped around him just brings everything you know about Sam Winchester, hunter and friend, crashing unexpectedly into the physical lover category and sends your mind reeling and spinning, realizing just how badly you have wanted this to happen.

You close your lips over his repeatedly, alternating between flicking at his hungry mouth with your tongue and nibbling at his lips with your teeth.  His five o’clock shadow catches at your palm as you bring your hand forward to hold his face, your hands exploring the feel of him as his own hands do the same with you.  His long fingers and callused palms warm the skin on your bare back and sides, his thumbs brushing the swell of your breasts tentatively but stopping short of more, as though he is waiting for permission, even though your taut nipples brush against his hard chest when you move against him.

You find your grip around his neck growing tighter as he nips and licks at your neck and collarbone. You throw your head back and begin to thrust against him, your slit becoming more wet at the thought and anticipation of having him inside of you. You suddenly become aware that you're still in your sticky jeans and you try to pull away from him, your fingers frantically working at the button and zipper. His hands find their way to the sides of your face and he pulls you back to him, his mouth crashing onto yours again making the removal of your jeans impossible. You try to pull back again to complete the task but he grips you tightly, and refuses to let you move away. His hands roam down to your ass and down the back of your thighs and before you realize what he’s doing, he stands up, holding you to him effortlessly like you weigh no more than a feather.  You wrap your legs around his waist and he turns and, lays you down on the cold table you had been sitting at all night.  He swiftly pulls off your jeans and he’s bending over you, laying his chest against yours before you can even shiver from the cold of the table against your bare skin. Your eyes widen at the feel of his hot cock poking at your wet slit and your breath catches in your throat as you wonder idly when he had the chance to remove his jeans too.

Sam is still holding you against his demanding lips as he devours your mouth, his hand tangled in your hair, your shoulders pulled off the Formica table, his impossibly large frame hanging over you.  You rock your hips towards him, your legs hooked around the backs of his knees and pulling him closer, yearning physically for his hot cock to stretch you tightly.  Suddenly the table under you wobbles disconcertingly and the bottom drops out of your stomach as you quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders again.  He barely misses a beat as he pulls you up against him again and turns, slamming you back against a hard, wooden beam.  His mouth trails down the side of your neck and along your collarbone and his hand finally closes over your breast at the same time as his mouth latches onto your other nipple.  You gasp and cling to him harder, both holding yourself up and trying to get closer to him, the yearning inside turning to desperation as he teases you with his mouth.

He rolls your nipple between his teeth and flicks at it over and over again with his tongue causing waves of heat to pulse through you. A low, deep moan tumbles from your lips and he pulls back from your breast, his thumb taking over where his tongue left off. You feel his hot breath suddenly on your neck as he rolls your hardened nipple between his thumb and finger. You let out a gasp as he pinches your raw nipple hard between his thumb and finger and bites down on the sensitive skin of your neck, his roughness taking you by surprise and delighting you. You shiver at the intense sensation of it all as he lets you slide down him just enough to line up his hard cock against your slit and hold you there. You writhe against him, almost begging him to be inside of you, and he lowers his mouth to your bare neck. His teeth bite down into your tense shoulder muscles, again, as his arms wrap around your waist and he thrusts into you hard, the wood from the beam digging into your back.  You let out a strangled cry from all the sensations coursing through you and the feel of him inside as he pulls back and thrusts again.  You clutch his hair with your hands, your legs squeezing at his hips as he continues his assault on you.   You moan with the rhythm of his hips moving against you and the feel of him inside your wet sheath, and it’s taking all you have to hold onto him tightly, your nails digging into his shoulders, your legs like a vice around his hips.  You realize that you want so much more; as much as the initial thrust surprised you, filling you and unleashing a wave of expectant satisfaction in your mind and body, you want him driving into you harder, faster and as much as you moan and sigh, that's just not happening.

You tighten your grip on his hair and pull on him, getting his attention, the clouded passion in his eyes betraying how much he likes the roughness and you smirk.  You bring your mouth to his shoulder and bite down at his neck.  The sound of his groan as you lick at the unbroken skin encourages you and you nip your way up to his ear, sucking the lobe into your mouth as he thrusts into you hard again.  You moan into his ear.  “Yes, Sam!  Harder!”

He pushes you down onto him, wraps his arms around you completely, pulling you away from the column. You continue to bite, suck and lick at his neck, each bit of contact causing his skin to line with goosebumps. You feel yourself getting wetter as the sound of a low growl works its way up his throat and out of his mouth, his teeth clamping down on your neck. You thrust your head back and in a quick moment you find yourself bent over the edge of the bar, the padding of a bar stool cradling your knees, Sam's hands gripped tightly around your hips, and his hot torso now laying against your back. You’re feeling strangely empty as his hand grips your hair and you feel his hot, labored breath next to your ear, missing the fullness of his cock.

"You want it harder, huh?" he growls into your ear as he pulls your head back. You squeak out a yes as you feel him line up again with your dripping pussy. He wraps an arm around your waist and lifts your ass just a little and thrusts back into you. You let out a loud moan, the sound encouraging him to pull out and thrust in again harder, his hand still in your hair as he pulls you into him roughly, his arm releasing its grip on your waist and his hand finding its way to your throbbing, swollen clit.  He pounds into you, his fingers applying just enough pressure as his thrusts push you into the smooth bar top.  Your legs begin to shake, and you can’t help the sounds falling from your lips as he leans into you again his thrusting becoming harder and erratic and you can sense he's getting close. You try to hold back against the growing pressure from his fingers on your clit and the fullness of him with each thrust and you feel like you could explode.  His own movements lose their controlled rhythm as he increases the pace and his hand moves away from your clit to pull your hip. Your hand quickly replaces his on your sensitive nub as you work small fast circles knowing that he's about to come. Suddenly, you explode, tightening around him as you cry out his name, your hand gripping the bar tightly as he pushes into you one last time with a moan of release as he fills you up.

After a moment, you feel your muscles loosening and he collapses against you, your own body pressing into the now sweat covered bar.

Sam pants into your ear, his breath hot and moist, his weight crushing you against the bar, but you really don’t mind.  He slowly regains enough control to straighten up, and you’re already fantasizing about fucking him again once you get him back to the motel.

Suddenly, the door at the back of the bar swings open and Ellen pushes through it calling out, “Sam Winchester, I asked you to turn off the damn lights!”

“Oh shit!” you exclaim softly as Sam quickly wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you down below the bar.

“Uh! Yeah, Ellen!” Sam calls out, cradling you in his lap as his naked ass rests on the roadhouse floor, “Just getting ready to head out!”

“You and that girl make a mess in here, boy?” says Ellen’s voice from inside the room and you’re suddenly freaking out that she’s going to come around the corner and spot the two of you naked on the floor of her saloon.

“Just some spilled beer,” Sam calls out, suddenly shifting forward, still holding on to you with one arm, but waving his other hand above the bar, “but I got it.  You go on up to bed.”

There’s a tense, heavy pause as you wait to find out if you have earned yourselves a lifetime ban from Harvelle’s Roadhouse until finally you hear Ellen call out her final goodnight.

“Well, alright then.  See ya tomorrow, Sam.”

“Good night, Ellen.”

You wait until you hear the door latch shut to let out your breath and Sam sits back against the bar with a corresponding sigh of relief.  Your eyes meet his, the colors brilliantly shining back at you with mischief, and you both burst out laughing, your giddiness returning suddenly as you watch his dimples forming in his cheeks again.

Oh, just wait until you get him back to that motel...

**Author's Note:**

> Comment from one of the authors while the other rolled on the ground laughing: This fic was like hitting a Moose sized brick wall of sex...
> 
> Hope you enjoyed... ;-)


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